


in the light of day

by j_gabrielle



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Morning Sex, Simultaneously porny and fluffy, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-13 18:24:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18946405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: "You think very loudly," Tormund's sleepy slur rumbles next to his ear. Eyes, bright like clear summer skies, watch him from under a hooded gaze. "Do I need to fuck you back to sleep again?"





	in the light of day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [merwinist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merwinist/gifts).



> Not exactly what we spoke of, but I hope you'll enjoy this nonetheless x

He feels sore; a bone deep sort of satiation and ache that comes only after a full night's worth of being fucked by Tormund Giantsbane.

Jon tries to not think of the way he feels his skin shift and is drawn taut by the mess of dried sweat, come and oil. Doubly so, he tries to not breathe in too deep. The scent of sex is thick in the grey blue morning light. He needs to untangle himself from Tormund's arms if he ever wants to get started on his day. There are about a million things to do, and only so many hours of daylight to do it. 

But.

But Tormund's arms are heavy and warm, and wound around him like a snare meant to keep him safe from the world that seeks to hurt him. Jon feels a little ridiculous sometimes; here he was a man grown, but still, he craves the love and surety of Tormund's arms every minute he is away from them. Jon will never say it out loud, not when there is a mount of responsibilities on both their shoulders that never seem to end, but he wants to just be with Tormund. To just be in his arms, be kissed, cared for, loved without restraint, be touched and know that it came without expectations or conditions. To not hide what he was. Who he was. To be himself in his most intimate moments.

"You think very loudly," Tormund's sleepy slur rumbles next to his ear. Eyes, bright like clear summer skies, watch him from under a hooded gaze. "Do I need to fuck you back to sleep again?"

"Is that a threat?" Jon smiles, reaching up to thread his fingers through Tormund's hair. It's gotten longer now, and they should do something about it, but Jon thinks he likes it like this. The look gives Tormund another veneer of wildness about him, and it suits him.

"It's a promise and you know it."

Tormund moves a big hand down Jon's spine, notching a leg over his hip. With deliberate, exaggerated slowness, Tormund dips his fingers down to graze his nails to Jon's still puffy hole. 

"Oh! Stop, stop, stop," He hisses, tensing up. Tormund stills his fingers. 

"Am I hurting you?"

Jon takes a moment to reorient himself, leaning forward to press his forehead to the fur on Tormund's chest. He strokes a hand through that, liking the feel and catch on his palm. "No," He licks his lips. "No, but I'm still sore."

"But I'm not hurting you, yes?" Tormund asks. He tilts his head to see blue eyes, now fully awake, watching him solemnly.

"No," He confirms. He tries to push himself away, reluctance weighing heavy in his chest, when he is caught and pulled onto straddling Tormund's waist. The stretch is a little uncomfortable, and if anyone had bothered to open the door, they would be treated to a view of his fucked red hole still wet with come and oil, and the bruises shaped like the palms of Tormund's hands.

Jon tries to disentangle himself again, but still finds himself captive. "Tormund, there are things that needs doing, and I can't spend the whole day in bed with you."

"Why not?"

Jon frowns. "Because we both made promises to other people," He starts, but the sentence never finishes. Tormund rolls them around until Jon is pinned down by his wrists over his head. Tormund makes a home for himself between his stretch thighs. Though neither of them are sporting an erection, Jon shudders, mouth falling open in pleasure when he finds himself breathless from the weight on him.

"Then make those promises to me," Tormund says, licking into Jon's mouth. He moans, and Tormund takes advantage of it, thrusting his tongue in time to the slow roll of his hips against Jon's.

There's thunder in Jon's veins when his mind blanks out, surrendering almost the instant Tormund uses his free hand to wrap around Jon's cock. He goes from half-mast to thick and leaking in Tormund's gentle grip. He vaguely hears his lover saying something, but it is lost in the rush of his blood to his head. Within heartbeats, he goes taut, Tormund's name on his lips when his cock valiantly dribbles a sputter of come. 

He floats. Mind drifting in the clouds of some happy place, anchored only by Tormund's body on his. 

Too soon, he comes back to himself. The grey blue light is being tinged with a molten gold, and so he rolls out of Tormund's arms, shakily climbing out of bed. He can feel his body aching and protesting, but he ignores it. There's a fresh mess of come on him, and he thinks Tormund must've come on him at some point. 

He makes to stand, when Tormund catches him in his arms again, pushing him onto his front before blanketing him with his body. "Who said I was done with you? Who said you could leave?"

Jon gasps, feeling his mind fracture when Tormund bullies his fingers into his hole.

**Author's Note:**

> I need sleep. Will edit later. Maybe.  
> \--  
> I have never, will never, allow any reposting or translations of my works without my permission. All of my works will and shall only be hosted on my personal accounts on AO3 (j_gabrielle), Dreamwidth (j_gabrielle) and Tumblr (randomingoftherandomness, hardheartshere).
> 
> For those who say that I never said anything, it is clearly stated on my AO3 profile bio.
> 
> I do not have a Twitter account.
> 
> I do not have a Wattpad account.
> 
> **Please Do Not Repost My Fics**


End file.
